Morristown
by moms5thchild
Summary: Prequel to Blind Jusice. Jim Dunbar goes to the Seeing Eye to get his first guide dog. The last thing he expected was to solve a murder.
1. Chapter 1

This is a prequel. The story of when Jim Dunbar met his guide dog, Hank. I have been working on this for a while and with the help of my beta reader I hope I have managed to make this into a mystery.

Oh my God... I sent in the wrong draft!!! Don't kill me, I've already been virtually kicked in the butt by my beta reader. Sorry, sweetie... I hang my head in shame.

**Morristown**

Chapter One

The cold November wind rattled the bedroom windows but under the king sized comforter was cozy and warm. Jim grabbed it, rolled into a tight ball and waited for the yelling to start.

"Hey, how about a little consideration, blanket thief," and with that Christie yanked the down filled covering out of his hands.

Cold air hit every part of his naked body; shocking Jim's eyes open to… nothing.

Damn, it wasn't a dream.

The smile slipped off Christie Dunbar's face when she saw the morning's realization hit her husband again. It had been nine months since the shooting; eight months of coming to terms with the day to day indignities of rehab, readjustment and relinquishing all hope that the light would return to Jim's eyes. Every morning was a replay of the day the bandages came off his eyes and their whole world changed.

"I'm going to make coffee, want some?" Christie said as she slipped into her quilted satin robe and ratty slippers.

"Yeah, sure," Jim scrubbed his face with the heel of his hand. Last night they had made love with an animal abandon they hadn't felt in years. It was desperate and primal; frightening and frightened at the same time. For the best part of a year Jim and Christie had been forced to live in each others pockets and now they were not going to 'see' each other for twenty eight days. Things were about to change and Jim Dunbar did not do change well.

He automatically counted the steps to the bathroom as he went to take his shower. Jim didn't have a lot of time to waste today because he was doing a long trip solo for the first time in months. He had to get to the Port Authority, board a bus to the Newark Airport and meet a limo there that was taking him to Morristown, to the Seeing Eye where he was to get his first guide dog. Yippee, yeah sure.

"Jimmy," Christie called when she heard the shower stop, "do you want some breakfast."

"Nyah, I don't think I could keep it down."

Christie grabbed Jim's mug and walked into the bathroom. He had wrapped a towel around his waist and lathered up his face to shave but the twitch of his nose told her that Jim had smelled the coffee. Christie touched the mug to the back of his hand so he could find it quickly. Two sips later it was sitting on the vanity and Jim was very carefully scraping the stubble from his chin.

"Don't worry; I can't slit my throat with a disposable razor unless I work real hard."

She cringed before she started talking again, "come on, I used to watch you shave every morning."

A small smile appeared, "that was because you were waiting for the mirror to put on your make up. Well, I don't need the mirror any more so I'll move over."

"You need the sink so stay put." She sat quietly as Jim brought the razor up to his fingertips and stroked down with a grace that hadn't been there two months ago. Her mother had foolishly bought an electric shaver for Jim's birthday, an expensive one that now sat next to his camera at the bottom of his sock drawer.

Christie reached out as if to touch his shoulder, but instead bit down hard on her lip. The chasm that stretched between them just kept getting wider and wider and Christie had no idea how to bridge that gap. It wasn't really her style to quip but maybe she needed to change her style. "You're going to be gone over a month; I have to get my Jimmy fix in while I can."

"You mean you haven't gotten tired of me hanging around here all the time?" Jim leaned on the vanity.

Christie didn't stop her hand this time, ignoring his flinch. "Things are going be better. You won't be stuck inside. Bet the whole world will look different when you get back."

Jim bit back his sarcastic response. After bitching and complaining that everyone around him was afraid to say the words look, see and watch he couldn't explode when Christie did that very thing. Jim rolled his eyes, shook her hand off his shoulder and finished shaving. He had to look his best for _the next stage on his road to recovery. _Man, he hated therapist speak, sounded like a damn Hallmark moment.

_--------------------_

"Jim Dunbar," a hearty voice accompanied the opening of the limo door, "welcome to the Seeing Eye. My name is Sam Coleman and I will be assisting in your training while you are here."

Jim cautiously stepped out of the car and tried to orient himself to his surroundings, but he was totally lost. He always hated going to New Jersey. Family vacations to Atlantic City were always fiascos. Then there was Fort Dix for the fun and games the army called basic training. Searching for body dumps in Hoboken always lead to no where but frustration. Now he was in Blind Central Station, Morristown, and it was beginning to snow.

"Good to be here," Jim slipped a weak smile on his face, "I'm sure this is going to be everything I imagined it would be."

"Well, grab your suitcase and I'll take you to your room," the instructor said as he tapped the back of Jim's hand.

"Yeah," Jim grabbed the man's arm above the elbow, "let's get this show on the road."

Jim allowed himself to be led through the building but whatever Sam Coleman said didn't penetrate his skull. He was tired; a simple trip of thirty four miles had exhausted him. Turn left; turn right, Coleman might as well have said pirouette and fly away because Jim was not going to remember do any of those directions later.

"Jim," Sam's voice finally penetrated the fatigue.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"How was the trip in," Sam asked again.

"Good, two subways to the Port Authority, shuttle to the airport and the limo ride here. Piece of cake for me and my magic wand," Jim smiled.

The grin was audible in Coleman's voice, "Good cane travel skills, I'm impressed. You learned a lot in a very short space of time, but then I've read your file so I expect big things from you. You seem to be able to do anything you put your mind to. Well, here's your room, number four." Sam put Jim's hand on the door handle. "From the door the bed is on your left at nine o'clock, sorry it's a single. On your right at three o'clock is a dresser, past that is the door to your bathroom. Twelve o'clock is a desk and there's a window right above it. You are expected to make your bed, keep your room clean and do your own laundry. Jim, I'll leave you alone now to get set up and when you're ready head to the common room and meet the other students. Be there by five o'clock, okay?"

"Great. Looking forward to it," Jim snapped at the man. "Anything else?"

"Not just now. Relax Jim, from this moment on everything gets better."

----------------------

Jim stumbled into the common room with only minutes to spare. He hadn't finished his unpacking so he hoped he didn't look too strange. There would be no khaki pants with a purple shirt and orange tie; he didn't own clothes like that. Still the image of him looking that bad still jumped into his head with disturbing frequency. It was only the sound of voices helped him orient himself to the place.

"Jim," the over hearty voice of Sam Coleman snapped him to attention, "I see you found your way here."

"Yeah, just followed the clues," Jim hoped his smile seemed sincere. "Sounds like quite the party here."

"Yes, we have a full class of twelve people here. Eight are like you getting their first dog and four getting a replacement dog."

Jim cocked his head to the left. "I thought this was a life long commitment?"

"It is," Sam chuckled, "but the dog's life in a lot shorter than yours, hopefully." He tapped the back of Jim's hand, signaling Sam's desire to guide Jim. "I think you need to meet Anne Peabody. She is here for her fourth dog."

"Come on, sit with an old lady," the clear voice bubbled with humor. "You'll have to cuddle up; I'm sitting on a piano bench."

"So that was you I heard playing." Jim said as he settled next to the tiny woman.

"Yeah, when I was a girl all the well brought up ladies played a musical instrument. Course, if I was a well brought up lady I'd never ended up at this place." She said cryptically as a bright trill of notes lept from the piano, "I used to sing back up at all the best recording studios in New York."

"What do you do now?" Jim was intrigued by the woman beside him.

"Now I play Grandma in Pontiac, Michigan and embarrass my children with what I do." With that, Anne started playing the piano in earnest, hot jazz erupting from her fingers' sure smooth movements. "I always wanted to be the last of the red, hot grandmas."

Jim started to tap his foot to the music. He knew he was going to like this lady and, maybe, she would show him the ins and outs of the place. "So, Red, have you scoped out the other students?"

Heavy chords came out of the piano. "This is a really dreary lot, the worst is a Holy Roller minister who gave up telling God cure him and decided to bore us into believing God has a special place in heaven for the afflicted. There're some diabetics who couldn't keep their diets straight, a divorce lawyer, a cop who couldn't duck fast enough, two teenager accident victims, other varied and sundry unlucky buggers… and me. I don't know if we're blind, bland or just plain boring."

Jim chuckled, "Well, I'm the slow moving cop."

"Oops," Anne squeaked, "you're not going to arrest me for having a bad attitude."

"I can't arrest anybody anymore." Jim bumped Anne with his shoulder, "Do you take requests? Do you know any Hoagy Carmichael?"

"Hell, I knew Hoagy Carmichael," she laughed and started to play _Stardust_. With Anne Peabody here the good times were gonna roll.

A new, female voice called everyone to attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to meet and greet the people here who are going to make up the last class of this year. My name is Gayle Authier and I am the head instructor and the coordinator for this class. If you have any complaints, problems or issues please bring them to me so I can officially file and ignore them." A wave of small, polite giggles slipped out. "Now, I would like you to introduce yourselves to the groups and I think Annie would be more than happy to start."

Anne stood up, "I am so glad you didn't say age before beauty. Hello folks, I'm Anne Peabody and I'm from Pontiac, Michigan. Where I try to teach thick headed, thick fingered children piano hoping someday I'll find the next George Shearing or Billy Joel. This will be my fourth dog and I hope I'm not too hard on the poor thing cause I seem to keep wearing them out." Anne settled back on the piano bench and delivered Jim a well placed bump in the ribs. "Your turn, Jimmy boy."

Jim laughed and began, "I'm Jim Dunbar and I'm a police detective from New York City and this is my first dog."

Jim listened carefully, but trying to attach names to voices was harder than attaching names to faces. The Reverend Russell Washington from Mississippi sounded like a Colonel Sanders clone except he was selling God instead of chicken. Ruby Monroe a nurse from Hamilton, Ontario had a thick, Canadian accent. There were three teens, two boys and a girl, a house wife, a welder, an accountant, a dad; all the stories and voices jumbled into meaningless noise.

"Hello, my name is Ashley Rush," a low, feminine voice cut through Jim's consciousness, "and I'm a lawyer. This will be my second dog. I only hope I can get past my feelings for Rusty. He opened the world to me."

That voice; it stirred the same feelings the flash of chocolate brown eyes once did. Visions of long, black hair and long slim legs stirred feelings Jim thought he'd put behind him. Well, he wasn't dead yet and Ashley was a very pretty name.

Then Anne's sharp little elbow dug into his ribcage again. "Jimmy, wake up. You get the pleasure of being my dinner partner tonight." When she stood Jim realized that Anne Peabody was barely five foot tall.

"Great, I want to hear all your stories. Did you ever meet Charlie Parker?"

"Oh, have I got stories about the Bird to tell you." Anne's smile was evident in her throaty voice, "and Dizzy and the Duke. I was there when they all were."

It wasn't until later the Jim Dunbar realized Anne Peabody had gently led him into the dining room.

--------------------

At four o'clock the next afternoon Jim almost staggered into his room and fell, face first, onto the bed. God, he had a high stress job but finding murderers and facing down bank robbers had nothing on learning how to deal with a guide dog.

"How you holding up, detective," the voice of Joe Goldman came from his doorway.

"This is damn hard work," he shot back at the accountant from Miami Beach.

"Yeah, that's how I felt when I got my first dog." The sound of Goldman's footsteps in the room told Jim the man had found the desk chair. "My father never let a dog on the farm. There were cats in the barn because cats caught the mice but a dog was just trouble."

"You sure your Dad and my Dad weren't the same guy." Jim smiled as he pulled himself up and around towards Joe's voice.

"Well, only if your father was a Jewish truck farmer from Buffalo."

"Oh yeah… my Dad was into raising Kosher bacon in Red Hook," laughed Dunbar. "Now, the question…"

"Oh yeah," Joe sighed, "the question… how did you lose your sight. Well, a soldier never gets hurt in a peace time army or is that just what the recruitment officers say." The chair creaked as Stan leaned back. "Rubber bullets hurt no matter who shoots 'em. Still, the army rehabilitated me, educated me and pays my medical insurance to this day. Now, I'm an accountant… boring job but the pay's okay."

Boring job, the phrase stopped Jim. He'd been a soldier, hell, he'd seen battle but managed to come home in one piece and continue the path he'd set for himself. Soldier, police officer and up the ranks as far as he could go until he retired and opened a security company; that was what Jim Dunbar planned for himself. Now Jim Dunbar's plans were lost in the dark.

"Jim, you got awful quiet," Joe interrupted Jim's dismal thoughts.

"Just trying to decide whether to wear a tie or a turtle neck to dinner," Jim drawled in an exaggerated voice. "I find this dressing for dinner so tedious when the entrees are so bland." Then he grinned as Joe started laughing. Maybe he could be a blind comedian.

The dinner conversation became louder as the students got to know each other better and friendships started to be formed. Twenty seven days from now this group of people would scatter across the continent and get back to their lives. It was time for Jim Dunbar to finally get back in gear.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everybody who sent me a review. I love to know what people think and the feedback helps me become a better writer. Thank you, Alice, for being a good beta.

**Morristown **

Chapter Two

Wednesday morning the temperature dipped alarmingly and all the students still had to go through their two daily outdoor walks holding onto empty harnesses. This was why warm coats, sturdy boots, hats and gloves were strongly suggested for winter classes.

"Strongly suggest," Jim Dunbar snorted as he shuffled the cards for the night's first poker game. "If I hadn't had my fur lined leather gloves I'd never have to learn Braille because all my fingers would get frostbite, turn black and fall off."

"I don't know about that," Callum Mitchell smiled as he ran his fingers over the cards, "There's always your nose. If you can put it to the grindstone why not put it to the Brailled page?"

"Just the kind of thing you can expect to hear from a science major," Anne Peabody said. "Sticking your nose in a book takes on a whole new meaning."

"Are you here to whine or are you here to play cards?" Dunbar put the cards on the table. "Deuces and eights are wild."

Sam Coleman walked around and observed the men and women scattered through the room. Anne Peabody was an instigator again. When things slowed down Anne would goose the proceedings and never let anyone around her get morose or depressed. She knew what was going to happen tonight; she knew because she had been here three times before.

Jim heard Sam in the background. "Reverend Washington, could you come with me?"

"Something going on?" He asked no one in particular.

"Shut up and play cards."

"Red," Jim was worried, "what is happening with Reverend Washington?"

"Detective Dunbar," Joe Goldman and Anne Peabody spoke in unison, "shut up  
and play cards."

"Okay, okay… I can take a hint," Jim checked his cards again. "Anybody want any cards?"

There was a tap on his shoulder. It was Gayle Authier. "Jim, could you come with me?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "What did I do now?"

"Oh, it was nothing you did, but it is very important that you come with me."

"Don't worry, Jimmy," Red snickered as she gave his cards to Ashley Rush, "we'll have someone lose your money for you."

"Hey, I have thirty five cents invested in this game and I'm not about to just give it away!"

The woman put her hand lightly on Jim's shoulder. "This is very important."

"Alright, I fold, I gotta go now." Jim rose and took Ms. Authier's arm and tried to figure what was happening now.

The councilor made small talk. "How are you doing here, Mr. Dunbar? Is this everything you imagined?"

"Imagined? This place was never on my 'to do' list." Jim became thoughtful. "My mother told me not to think about before and after or about better or worse, just different. My life is sure different now."

"Well, it's about to get different again." Ms. Authier stopped in front of Jim's room. "Inside on the desk you'll find a leash and dog treats. I want you to sit down, pick up a treat and have the leash handy. We will bring your dog to you shortly. I want you to call the dog to you, feed him the treat when he obeys you and put the leash on him. From now on this dog is going to be your best friend. He will be attached to either you or your bed for the rest of your stay here. From this moment on only you will be feeding, walking, grooming and calling your dog by his name."

He turned to the woman, "And what is his name?"

"Hank. You are going to meet a beautiful German shepherd named Hank. He looks like a classic police dog and he will be part of your world from now on." With that Ms. Authier left Jim in his room.

Jim walked to the desk and found the leather leash and package of dog treats. He slipped the leash over his shoulder and shook a treat into his hand. He wanted to pace. Hell, Jim Dunbar wanted to run and to work out the nerves building inside him, but he sat and waited for his future to arrive. When the knock on the door finally came, Jim Dunbar was ready to jump out of his skin.

"Mr. Dunbar, time to call your dog."

"Hank, come here boy," the words sounded strange to his ears. The click of nails against tile and the feel of a wet nose against his hand told Jim the dog was here. "Hey, Hank," he ran his hand down the head to find the collar, but his hand slowed as it trailed through the thick shaggy fur. Unconsciously the left hand came up and joined the right as Jim searched his memory for an image that would tell him what his dog looked like. A police dog, tan, brown and black with ears that stick up and pointy teeth. Hank probably looked like the drug sniffing dogs that Jim had seen so many times at work. He could live and work with a police dog and with that he snapped the leash to the collar. He could live with Hank.

--------------------

"Six oh seven A. M." the alarm said, prompting Jim's arm to snake out and hit the top of the clock.

Jim's eyes opened a slit as he pulled the blanket up over his head. He hated mornings, he hated dragging his butt out of bed when the floors were frosty and he hated the dark. The dog… Hank… pulled the chain that anchored him to the bed.

"Hey, boy," Jim's hand reached out and Hank gently nosed the fingers that sought him. Jim swung out of the bed and ruffled the big dog's fur. Hank whined appreciatively and licked Jim's fingers. A smile spread slowly across his face as Jim started to open up to the animal before him. "Hey, Hank, how about I get dressed and we go for a walk? I gotta learn how to stoop and scoop for you so I hope you're a quick study."

Jim knew this was the way each day would start from now on. Hank was patient as Jim dragged on his jeans, sneakers and coat and joined the parade to the gravel patch behind the dormitory. He could hear the shuffling and yawning of the students along with the padding and sniffling of the dogs. Snow fell into his shoes as he tried to coax Hank to hurry up and finish his business.

"Mr. Dunbar." Jim jumped when Sam Coleman's voice was suddenly behind him. "I'm sure that you would be annoyed if someone stood over you while you were sitting on the toilet. This is your partner for the next eight to ten years; surely you can give him a few minutes every morning." Jim drew in a shuddering breath and waited for Hank to finish.

"Good boy, Hank," Jim praised the dog half heartedly as he stooped to clean up after the waste. He wasn't sure if he'd be happy with eight to ten years doody duty.

--------------------

"Oh no," Milt Gibbs, the trainer who drove the school's van, whispered as he pulled up to the hall of St. Mark's Lutheran Church, "it's him, again."

"Who?" The wobbly tenor of Callum Mitchell asked what every student in the van wanted to know.

"It's that lunatic, SOB."

"Son of a bitch," Anne Peabody quipped as she caressed her dog's head, a golden labrador named Dawn.

"That's what he calls us," Milt stopped the bus and turned to the students and trainers before he opened the door. "I thought I had out foxed the guy, but he's a sneaky bastard. Sorry."

"That's okay," Sam Coleman raised his voice for all to hear. "People, you are about to encounter _**the**_ Seth O'Brien, Morristown's own lunatic fringe. He is a very radical animal rights activist who believes that using dogs as guides for the blind is an inhumane and oppressive use of the animals. He believes dogs have natural talents but the training we give our animals is unnatural and bonding them to one person is slavery. Don't listen to him. If your partners had not shown a high degree of intelligence, aptitude and enjoyment for the job they are doing they would not be doing it."

Coleman drew in a long breath and looked at the people in the bus. Anne Peabody and Dawn, Jim Dunbar and Hank, Callum Mitchell and Duchess, Ashley Rush and Teddy, Joe Goldman and Piper and Russell Washington and Prince were the brightest students in this class and he didn't need any of them spooked by a loony. "The lovely ladies of the altar guild will entertain the people who will be waiting for their instruction while we take two of you out at a time. Right now, let's get into the church hall and get on with it."

Simple alphabetical order had Jim Dunbar and Hank go first that morning. The vibrations that ran up the stiff u-shaped collar were different with an actual guide dog there. The height was just right for Jim's arm to move comfortably with Hank and Hank was _fast_. Eight months of stumbling, shuffling steps had slowed him down and now Jim had to pick up the pace to keep up with the dog.

"Tyrant!" Seth O'Brien shouted in his face, distracting Jim making him stumble. Hank stopped.

"Concentrate on your walk, Jim. Praise your dog for stopping and trust your dog." The trainer's voice was right behind him. "Now tell him forward."

Jim tried to get the tension out of his voice. "Good boy, Hank. Forward." Together they started down the sidewalk.

Seth O'Brien followed them, screaming. "That dog is a shepherd. Are you a sheep? Why are you abusing that animal? Would you keep him if he were blind or would you kill him for being useless?"

"Jim, stop and listen to me." The trainer was at the side opposite Hank. "You have to concentrate. Your dog doesn't know where you are going. He is only telling you what is in the way as you get there."

Jim's hand clenched hard on the harness. "That idiot and the way he is distracting…"

"Is not an excuse you can use, Jim. You live in New York City and the distractions there are going to be bigger and louder and in greater quantity than anything you'll find on the sidewalks of Morristown, New Jersey." A comforting hand came down on his shoulder. "Go two blocks forward, a right turn, one block forward, a left turn to the end of the block and then another left turn at the end of the block and then three blocks back to the church."

"That is damn confusing," Jim bit back.

"That is the kind of directions you will get everyday and I didn't even say the words 'here' or 'over there'. Work it out in your head before you start and then tell your dog forward. We are almost at the end of the first block, so trust your dog and start again."

"Hank, forward," Jim walked forward until Hank stopped. "Good boy, Hank," Jim remembered to say as he pushed his foot out until he felt the curb. He listened for traffic and when he felt safe he commanded, "Hank, forward."

The dog didn't move.

"Hank, forward."

"He's not a car," the rough, angry man stepped in front of Jim and spit out his sarcastic words. "He is your beautiful brother and you are using him like one of those polluting monstrosities that foul the earth with their noxious waste."

"Hank," Jim gave the hand command to proceed and Hank skillfully circled the irate protester and took Jim to the curb at other side of the street. "Good boy, Hank, good boy." Jim praised his dog while mentally flipping the bird to the bastard behind him,  
and then kept moving forward.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**Morristown**

Chapter Three

The first Friday night at school ended up a raucous party and Red was the reason why. Anne Peabody was pounding on the piano, singing "Whatever Lola Wants" with nineteen year old Caitlyn Vance. Their dogs were curled at their feet oblivious to the noise above their head.

Joe Goldstein clapped his hands Anne's shoulders, "Come on, Red, play something we can dance to."

"Who are you going to dance with, Piper?" Anne laughed at the image of the man dancing with his dog but she changed the tune and started singing in a sweet soprano.

I was dancing with my darling  
To the Tennessee waltz  
When an old friend I happened to see  
Introduced her to my darling  
And while they were dancing  
My friend stole my sweetheart from me.

"Caitlyn," Joe asked the teenager beside Anne, "do you know how to two step?"

"No, Mr. Goldstein," giggled the girl, "are you going to teach me?"

"It would be my pleasure, and you can call me Joe."

Soon the floor was an interesting mixture of people moving slowly around in time with the music. Even Russell Washington squired Anita Gardner to the gentle dance music played by the feisty grandmother from Michigan.

Jim was sitting back enjoying Anne's music, his hands rubbing Hank's thick fur behind his ears. The dog seemed to like this; he leaned into Jim and made little sounds deep in his throat. Jim could really get the hang of having a pet around; he just didn't know if he could really put his complete trust in an animal.

A hand fell on Jim's shoulder. "Hello, Mr. Dunbar," the honeyed voice of Ashley Rush brought a smile to his face. "How would you like to trip the light fantastic with me?"

"I'm afraid I left my yippie-ki-yay at home, Ms. Rush, but I might be persuaded to take a walk through these hallowed halls with you, but you would have to call me Jim."

"Jim, call me Ashley. Teddy and I will show you all around the joint."

He stood up and took hold of Hank's leash. "I've said this far too often in the past eight months, but lead the way."

"Where're you two going?" Sam Coleman asked as they headed out the door.

"Anyplace that isn't playing country music," Ashley giggled as she and Jim made it out the door.

"Hey, what about community spirit?" Sam laughed.

"I'll serve and protect, but I won't listen to whining cowboy songs," Jim replied as he pulled the door shut behind him. "Well, that wasn't what I'd call sneaking out, but we escaped. Now what?"

"Now," Ashley's breathy whisper sent shivers down his spine as she ran her hand up Jim's arm found his face and then gently ran her fingers over his lips, "you get to know what the phrase 'what happens in Morristown, stays in Morristown' means."

"I thought that was Vegas," a tremor ran through the words.

"Am I in Vegas… are you… and do you know what I have in mind?"

"I'm a detective; I'm trained to follow the clues and I am very good at my job." Jim followed as Ashley tugged him down the hall, past the classrooms and to the councilors' offices. The dogs didn't seem to care what was happening, or what was about to happen, but Jim felt as if he had a four-legged chaperone on his arm.

A door knob rattled.

"Damn, the door is locked." Ashley's voice was tight with disappointment. "You wouldn't happen to have a skeleton key, would you?"

"Actually, I have this," Jim rattled his key ring. Pushing the woman aside he searched the door for a dead bolt and, finding none, felt for the key hole on the knob. "If I take this little piece of metal right next to my apartment key, insert it like so and wiggle it around a bit, you might be surprised." With that Jim let the vibrations that shook the lock pick to tell him when he passed each tumbler. Soon a tiny click and a gentle push proved he could still open a simple lock.

"Oh, that is a useful skill," cooed Ashley as she pushed Jim into the office. "They didn't teach us that in real estate law."

Nervously Jim closed the door behind him. "Are the lights out?"

"You don't know? So you have zero vision," she tapped him on the shoulder and ran her hands over his chest. "Good thing I can tell light from dark and it is very, very dark in here. So, leave the puppies by the door and we can explore. Stay Teddy, be a good boy."

"Yeah, down Hank, relax… this may take awhile." Jim shook the leash off his hand, turned and pulled the woman tight to his chest.

Ashley molded herself to Jim's long frame and pulled his head down to her lips. With a savage intensity she plundered his mouth with her kisses. Jim answered with the same intensity. For the first time since the shooting he was an equal partner to the woman in his arms. He didn't care who Ashley was or why she was throwing herself at him, all Jim knew was he was the man she wanted now and now was all that mattered.

Ashley's hands slipped under Jim's shirt and slid up to grasp his nipples and twist them as hard as he had ever done to any woman. He arched his head back and groaned. This was the first time any woman had taken the lead in lovemaking as thoroughly as Ashley Rush had. He pushed her away and traced down her torso to the top of her skirt. Quickly he reached under the skirt and found nothing but warm, smooth skin.

"I've been planning this all day," Ashley's throaty laughter coaxed Jim's fingers to keep exploring her. "I've wanted you ever since I heard you were a police officer."

"Actually, I'm a detective," Jim whispered and pulled her close so she could feel what she was arousing in him.

Stepping back Jim found a desk behind him and swung round to balance Ashley on the cluttered work space. They did not think; they did not stop the frantic fumbling that lead to its inevitable conclusion. When it was over Jim let out long, shuddering breathes and started to pet Ashley in his patented after the after glow, cool down routine.

"I have to go," Ashley said breathlessly as she pulled the sides of her open blouse together. "Wait about five minutes and head to your room."

"Hey, why don't we go back to my room and then I'll get us a coffee," Jim reached out, wanting this feeling to last longer.

Ashley called Teddy to her, "No, we can't… I don't want anyone to figure out what happened here."

Jim was confused, "Ashley, what's the matter?"

She reached up and patted Jim on the cheek, "Nothing is the matter, I just had to ease a little tension and so did you. No strings, okay Jimmy?" Ashley was out the door without a good bye.

With that parting shot, Jim Dunbar finally got to feel what it was like to be used.

--------------------

Sam Coleman was standing outside the recreation room when he saw Jim Dunbar and Hank slink back to their room. Earlier when he had seen Ashley Rush march past, head high and a smile splitting her face he figured out what had happened. It wasn't hard, really, to see when the combination of personalities here would be explosive. He could almost see the notches on the bed post that beautiful and proud divorce lawyer collected and she had picked Jim Dunbar to add to her list of conquests. Why Dunbar? Because he was the hero, the one who made the news all over the tri-state area. Coleman hadn't been a psychologist councilor at The Seeing Eye without seeing just about everything and he had seen this kind of behavior far too often. Quickly Sam left the party and went to Dunbar's room.

Jim had pulled off his shirt and jeans, throwing them and not caring where they landed. He felt like he had been dipped in slime and needed a shower desperately. Then some jerk off was knocking at his door and if it was that ball buster he was going to personally drag her through the hall and toss her into the snow.

"Jim, it's Sam," Coleman waited patiently for the door to open. "Can I come in?"

"Hold on," Jim called as he searched for his clothes. Finding his jeans he quickly pulled them on before he threw open the door. Sam entered and started picking up the scattered clothing, all the while watching Jim stand dejected in the middle of the room.

"You look as though you've been through…"

"What," Dunbar shot back.

"I'd say a life altering experience. Sit down, Jim, and let me tell you something I'm sure you don't want to hear."

Coleman threw Jim's shirt at him and settled in the desk chair. When Jim realized he had his shirt, he roughly jammed it on and flopped on the bed.

"Jim, ya know that there are a lotta people with a lotta kinks out in the world. One of those kinks is making love to disabled people and especially if they are disabled themselves. Just because we might know someone has one of those kinks it's not a reason to shut them out of this program."

Jim's jaw dropped, "You knew about…"

"We trust that the people who come here are sufficiently adult that they can control themselves for twenty eight days." Coleman saw several emotions roll over the other man's face and decided that he did not have to play Jiminy Cricket. "Jim, we do not accept children in this program so everyone here is an adult. I just wanted you to know that even adults need to figure out their problems before they act on them."

Jim chewed his lip before he spoke, "So I'm acting out?"

"Right now, you're the only one who knows if you are. So, go take your shower, head to bed and start fresh tomorrow." Sam headed toward the door, but stopped and put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "I won't have a conversation like this with you again, but I hope you will feel free to speak to me whenever you need. Okay?"

"I'll think about it," was all Dunbar could say as Coleman left the room.

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

My goodness, how did I ever manage to ruffle so many feathers. Oh well, I was going to work on this a little longer but I think it needs to go out now. Thank you, Alice, for the pats on the back and the winks over the scenes.

**Morristown**

Chapter Four

"Okay Jim, this time you are going to go downtown, get yourself some souvenirs or a t-shirt or what ever and then head to the Burger King at 66 Morris Street at noon. Your fellow students will meet you there."

"Okay, Milt," Jim ran the route he was to follow in his head. Milt Gibbs had taken six students to various locations in town so they could travel a longer route and meet for lunch. "Do we have to eat at that ptomaine palace? I'm not a Whopper and fries kinda guy."

"Jim, we've got three teenagers in this class, each one is either in or will soon be starting college and they will probably be living on fast food. I am not going to be the one to educate their palates, not on my salary." Milt stepped back and signalled the instructor who would be trailing behind the detective on his walk. "You have your cell phone if you get into trouble, but I think you can manage this on your own. See you for lunch." With that he went back to the van and drove to the next drop off point, leaving Jim to start on his way downtown.

Jim drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He didn't think he was actually on his own but figured this was a test of sorts. "Let's get started boy. Hank, forward."

It was the end of the second week and the walks were more difficult. The biggest obstacle at this point was to get the students to trust both themselves and their dogs. Each student was given a cell phone as life line if they got into trouble and told to go for it. They were not told that each and every one of them had an instructor shadowing for their every move. Never were they left alone on the street.

They had barely started when the wind picked up and blew snow into Jim's face. He hated snow; it was as if everything was muffled under a blanket. The sidewalk was still relatively clean but if this crap kept falling it would soon turn them into a skating rink. Hank stopped; Jim extended his foot, found the curb and listened for traffic. Damn the snow, he couldn't hear anything coming either way and was about to step off but Hank wouldn't budge.

"Hank, come on, forward."

Hank waited, pointedly ignoring repeated commands to move. Jim searched with his foot again and detected nothing unusual. He was getting annoyed when he remembered to reach up. It was then Jim found a broken tree limb in front of his face; his trust in Hank jumped up two notches with that.

"Good dog, Hank, good boy," he kept a smile in his voice as he praised his dog. Jim stepped to the side until he passed the broken branch, "Hank, forward."

------------------------------------

When Jim reached Morris Street he heard the strident voice of Seth O'Brien.

"Give up that dog! That is a farm dog and you will never use my canine brother for his real talents. You are exploiting that dog."

"Halt, Teddy," Ashley Rush's voice was clipped and angry. "I know who you are, Mr. O'Brien, and I will take out my cell phone and have the police arrest you for harassment."

"Yes, do it," crowed the man, "I'll call the media! I'll call PETA! I'll have them see the unnatural conditions these, our canine brothers, are being subjected to."

Jim approached the pair, automatically reaching into his pocket before remembered his badge was not there. "Mr. O'Brien, I'm a police officer and I have to ask you to move along."

"No, you can't be a cop, you're blind. You're just another one of the pathetic abusers of our canine brothers." O'Brien came so close to Jim that the man's fetid breathe filled Jim's nose. Hank pushed himself between the two men in an attempt to separate them.

Then O'Brien heard someone else approaching, looked up and saw the two instructors that were watching Dunbar and Rush bearing down on him.

"You haven't won. There is going to be a day of reckoning and I am going to be there when it happens." With that O'Brien turned on his heel and stalked off before the Morristown staff could bring the actual law down on him.

"Thank you, Jim," Ashley purred as she turned toward Jim. "I'll have to thank you properly later."

He put on his 'cop face' and hoped it communicated through his voice, "don't worry, just doing my job."

"Oh, did I hit a nerve," her laughter had a nasty edge. "Detective Dunbar, I am so sorry if I pricked your ego but I thank you for saving me from the raving loony. Would it be beneath you're dignity to escort me to the Burger King? You can always think of me as a perp of some kind… a sex offender, perhaps?"

"As much as I would be happy to take you on a perp walk, I am trying to finish this exercise as I'm supposed to." Jim tried to re-orient himself to the street and ignore the laughter of Ashley Rush.

"Come on, Jim, forget about our late night adventure and join me. Only two more weeks and you'll never have to even admit you ever met me."

Dunbar chewed on his lip as he thought about his next move. He knew that to go back to his job he was going to have to prove he could do it and do it well. He also knew he was going to have to make allowances what he could not do. This dog, Hank, was a tool to get back on the job but he was only a tool. Dunbar knew he was going to have to be able to accept help from people he detested and this woman now made his skin crawl.

"Yes, I'll join you, thanks," he hoped he sounded sincere as he fell into step beside her. Turning with Rush, Jim explored the sidewalk in front of him with his toe until he found the edge of the curb. "Forward," he commanded and when they started to move Jim added, "Good boy, Hank."

--------------------------------------------

It was late and Jim's head hurt. First he had called Christie and ended up arguing with her about what they were going to do for Christmas this year. If he had his way they were not going to go anywhere or do anything that would slow down his rehabilitation and recapture of detective status. Then he had been reading Braille exercises and no matter how he tried to trust his fingertips he still developed a tension headache from clenching his jaw as he worked to read the pages there. He had to learn to understand and interpret this alphabet effortlessly so when he was back on the job he didn't need to wait for someone to read to him. Hank was nudging him gently, reminding Jim that the dog needed to go outside and sooner was better than later.

"Hey, Hank, ready to go do your stuff?" Jim reached down and ruffled the top of the dog's head when he heard his window rattle. "Damn," he swore under his breath. The wind that had blown snow into his face earlier had grown in intensity. If this kept up they were definitely not going to go the mall tomorrow to go Christmas shopping. Dunbar smirked and thanked whatever weather gods were sending the storm to him… he hated going to malls. "First, I get on my coat and boots and then we go do our thing. How's that sound, Hankie boy, how does that sound?"

The dog's quick jump up told Jim that Hank understood everything he said. Quickly he got pulled on his parka, boots and gloves and soon the pair were heading down the hallway and then outside. The door was stiff and hard to push open because snow was beginning to drift against it. When Jim finally got it open the wind wrenched it out of his hand. Heavy snow and sleet pelted down, encapsulating Dunbar in a cocoon of icy cold. Even Hank hesitated sticking his nose out into the storm but need and training won over everything else and together the pair slowly trudged to the gravel patch where the dogs relieved themselves.

"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up," Jim chanted as he waited for Hank to do his business. He felt when Hank stood and had a bag ready to collect the 'dog bomb' when he found it. Jim was lucky and found it quickly, but the blowing snow had him completely disoriented. Turning where he thought he should go Jim gave the command, "Hank, forward." Hank took three steps forward and stopped. "Hank, what ya' got there, kid?" Jim extended his foot and bumped into something… something that yipped. There was a dog here, alone, in this freezing weather. Slipping the end of Hank's lead onto his wrist Dunbar crouched and reached out for the other dog.

"Hey boy, what are you doing here alone," Jim crooned to the shaking animal in front of him. He pulled off his gloves and combed the dog's matted, frozen fur until he found its collar and attached to that, its leash. There, at the end of the leash, was an arm. Jim frantically scrambled over to locate the rest of the person there. The coat was crusted with ice and snow and the face held no warmth. Jim's hand trailed down, searching for a pulse but stopped suddenly when it encountered a gaping wound, sticky with spilled blood. This was not an accident, not natural causes… this was a murder and he had already contaminated the scene.

Raising quickly Jim spat out the command, "Hank, find the door."

Hank pulled him slightly to the left and forward, stopping once to let Jim find the concrete step and again at the door. Counting out loud, Dunbar and Hank went swiftly down the hall and over to the apartment of the caretaker and his wife and pounded on the door.

"Hey, you in there, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," a disgruntled voice of the caretaker, Jack Hughes, was heard over the sounds of movement behind the door. "Whadda ya want? Hey, ya got blood on your hands."

"Yeah, I got blood on my hands," Jim shouted at the man, "There's a body out on the gravel patch. Call the police." Jim headed back to the door. He knew that whoever was outside on the gravel was dead, but he also knew he had to keep everyone else from disturbing the crime scene before the police got there. That was his job; secure the scene and gather evidence to solve the crime.

The caretaker came running toward him. "Mr. Dunbar, let me through."

"No, we have to wait for the police. I can tell you what you should do, check everyone here and see if anyone is missing." Jim stopped and remembered what he found. "There is a dog out there with the body… oh my god; there is a dog out there with the body. It won't leave its partner, it'll freeze to death and it is the best witness we have."

"What do we gotta do," Jack said as he wondered if he should trust the student in front of him.

"I've already been out there. I think I can bring the dog in without damaging the scene any more than I already have. Hank, let's go." The pair went back out into the raging snowstorm and carefully approached the gravel patch. Slowly and carefully Jim inched forward, calling "Here, boy," as he went. Hank let himself be lead on the leash, since it was not his harness he was not the guide, but his human needed him there and Hank was ready to do what it took to keep Jim safe.

Then Jim heard a whine above the sound of the wind. "Hey, boy, where are you. Speak, boy."

A weak yip answered his command and Jim soon found the dog. Carefully he let his hand travel down the leash and slipped its looped end off the lifeless hand. The dog didn't want to leave its human behind, but seemed to realize that there was nothing it could do so allowed itself to be lead inside the building. By the time Jim and the dogs reached the door most of the students were crowded near the entrance. Releasing the strange dog Jim bent down and wrapped his arms around Hank. His Hank had done just what he had needed to do, he had lead Jim to the crime scene and waited while Jim did what he had to do to save the other dog. Then Hank had taken Jim to the door despite the fact he was not wearing his harness. Hank was everything he should be and Jim finally realized his new partner was more than what he needed to be.

"Hey," Jack broke into Dunbar's train of thought, "there's a name on the collar. Teddy. Which one of the students has a dog named Teddy?"

Jim shook his head as he answered, "Ashley Rush."


	5. Chapter 5

I want to thank everyone who took the time to write a review. This is the kind of feedback I love to get but rarely do. This is so gratifying, I guess maybe I struck a nerve. I can only thank you again.

**Morristown**

Chapter Five

By the time the police got to the school, the crime scene was covered by a heavy layer of icy snow. Jim and Hank stood in front of the door of the recreation room and were drawn into the organized chaos that was at the start of any murder investigation.

"Everyone; please either stay in your rooms or the rec room so we can find you when we need you," said a female uniformed officer that responded to the 911 call. "The detectives will be here as soon as they can and they'll want to talk to everyone."

Jack Hughes, the night caretaker, turned to Jim Dunbar instead of the officers trying to control the scene. "I called Mr. Coleman and Ms. Authier," he said "They said they'd be here as soon as possible. In the meantime we're supposed to do what the police want."

Jim nodded to the man and turned his attention to the local cops. "Now," he commanded the officers, "you have to separate everyone until they can be questioned. You have to make sure that all their stories are untainted."

"Sir," Officer Mildred Berger snarled at what she thought was a civilian who was attempting to wrest control from her and tried to push him back into the room. "We need you to get out of the way."

"Officer, I found the body," Dunbar replied as he batted back on the cold, wet hand, "and I know something about running an investigation."

"Oh, this isn't a TV show, Mister..."

"That's _detective_, Officer," Jim's voice was hard, "Detective James Dunbar of the New York City Police Department and I do know a little about crime scenes."

The woman took her hand off Dunbar's shoulder. Even in Morristown, New Jersey, the police had heard about the hero cop who lost his sight saving four other officers during a bank robbery. Still, he was a blind civilian now and the officer had to get this man out of the way.

"Detective Dunbar, I will send the lead detective to you as soon as he gets here, but there will be crime scene techs and uniforms moving pretty fast through the halls and they can't watch out for you."

"You had a hard enough time getting here, I don't expect you're gonna get any help for a long god damn time." Jim planted his feet firmly where he stood, ready to tell this stupid local yokel to learn 'watching' was part of the job when he felt someone approach him from behind.

It was Anne Peabody, "Jimmy, could you please come inside and tell everyone what is going on. There are some very scared people here and from what Jack says the day staff is having trouble getting in."

"Later, Red; I gotta teach Officer," Jim turned back to the uniform, "what is your name, anyway?"

"Officer Mildred Berger" she muttered.

"I'm going to teach Officer Millie here how to run an investigation. With luck we might find out what happened to Ashley Rush."

--------------------

"When do you expect the detectives, Berger?" Dunbar snapped as he and Hank headed towards the office wing.

"Unknown, there's a blizzard out there and so far its caused a three car pile up on Interstate 287 and two more crashes on Bank Street," Berger interjected.

"Then get the other officer in here and start questioning suspects. Ask the basic questions, get a tape recorder and remember to add time, date and who is being interviewed and who is present. That way; when the detectives get here they will have something to start with." Jim stopped and rolled his shoulders, causing Berger to wince at the sound of his neck cracking. "If you have a fingerprint kit in your trunk, get it out and fingerprint everyone here."

"Detective Dunbar," Berger shuffled her feet, "perhaps you should handle the interrogation."

His voice rose with each word, "That would not be a good idea because I am a suspect. Everybody who was in the building is a suspect." He stopped and reached down to rub the top of Hank's head, an action that calmed Jim down. Then Dunbar reached out, found a chair and settled down while the officer found a tape recorder and got it ready. "Okay, get this started ASAP."

Officer Berger groaned in exasperation, "Detective, how about you do me a favour and just tell me what questions you would ask if you were handling this?"

"Officer, I am a suspect," Jim ground out in frustration. "Think about it… use that thing on the top of your neck and ask who, what, where, when and why. Who are you and who were you with tonight? What were you doing and where were you doing it? When did you last see Ms. Rush, who was she with, what was she doing and where was she doing it?"

"What about the why question, Detective Dunbar?"

Jim just shook his head, "Why did you kill her?"

--------------------

The wind slammed the front door open. Gayle Authier and Sam Coleman came in from the storm wet and shivering from trekking through the blizzard, but they both knew this was the place they had to be.

"Sam," Authier turned to her head councilor as she shucked off her parka, "there's Hughes, go see what is happening while I head to my office and then talk to the police."

"Sure, Gayle, after I thaw out my toes."

The entryway door smashed open again. This time it was two detectives who had driven a four wheel drive SUV to get through the storm.

"Whoa, can you believe that storm?" an extremely tall man pulled back the hood of his coat, peeled off his gloves and extended his hand to the staff members. "Hello, I'm Detective Carson and this is Detective Kovacs. Officers Berger and Standish called us here."

At the sound of footsteps, the detectives turned to see a tall blonde man with a guide dog coming towards them. Coleman and Authier rushed to him, but after a few quick questions the blind man pushed past them and headed to the police.

"Jim Dunbar," he stopped and extended his hand in the general direction he believed the men to be in.

"Matt Carson and Bert Kovacs, New Jersey State Police, the locals called us in to handle the homicide. The situation seems under control. I take it you've spoken to the uniforms?"

"Yeah, they started asking the basic questions. I told them to keep the suspects away from each other." Jim leaned back on his heels and puffed out a quick breath. "They thought I'd been watching too much TV when I told them what to do."

"Local yokels," grinned Bert Kovacs, "they get minimum training because all that is expected of them is to write tickets and direct traffic. This situation probably scared the shit out of them."

Jim's face went hard. "Officers Berger and Standish did their job. How about you do yours?" He turned his head slightly, "Sam, you still there?"

"Yeah," Coleman rushed over to Dunbar.

"Hank and I are heading to our room. I'm sure the detectives will want to speak to me soon." With that, Jim signaled Hank to turn around and they headed down the hall.

"Police man wannabe," scoffed Kovacs.

"Actually, he was a homicide detective," Sam Coleman told the men before he headed to his office.

--------------------

Jim sat on his narrow bed, flexing his hands as he remembered the sticky feel of Ashley Rush's blood coating his fingers. Despite repeatedly scrubbing with soap and nearly scalding water the memory of the way Ashley's blood covered his hand almost to the wrist lingered.

There was a gentle knock on his door, "Jimmy?"

He jumped to his feet and quickly pulled open the door. "Hey, Red, come on in. What brings you here?"

"The police don't think I could commit that murder," she giggled nervously as she sat on the bed beside Jim. "They've never heard me try to play classical music. _That_ I murder." Annie's voice went serious, "Jim, there were five women in this class. Caitlyn Vance is only nineteen years old and she is afraid to come out of her room. She's talking about giving up and going home. Ruby Monroe and Anita Gardner are ready to blame Jack Hughes because he was the only man here who could see. They obviously never met his wife."

"What about you?" Jim slipped beside the feisty woman he had come to admire. "Are you ready to quit?"

"Me! I don't quit, but I'm allowed to worry." Anne reached out, found Jim's arm and gave him a little squeeze, "I even worry about you."

"Don't worry about me, Red. This is the first time I haven't felt useless in a long, long time."

Then there was a pounding on the door and Officer Berger burst in. "Detective Dunbar, we've apprehended someone out by the kennels. Detective Carson thinks you might want to be there for the interrogation."

Jim and Anne rose and took the leashes of their dogs, causing Berger to sputter, "Just Detective Dunbar, Ma'am, and please -- maybe you should leave your dog here."

"Listen, young woman," Anne's voice sounded harsh to Jim's ear for the first time since he had met her, "I am not so damn stupid that I thought I might solve any crime, let alone this one. However, neither myself nor Mr. Dunbar are about to leave our partners behind."

"Where did they take the suspect?" Jim asked as he shook off the uniformed officer's hand. "Tell or guide me, do not push or pull me, I am a human being and not a piece of furniture."

"Sorry sir," Berger muttered as she stepped away from Dunbar, "the suspect is in Ms. Authier's office. If you turn left…"

"I know where Ms. Authier's office is." Jim slapped his leg to call Hank to him, took hold of the leash and headed out of the room.

--------------------

"James Dunbar has entered the room at 1:15 A.M." an unfamiliar voice intoned as Jim entered the office. The interview was in full swing and Jim didn't even know who was being interrogated.

"You know, I've tried to release my canine brothers tonight. I was going to bring them to my home and then distribute them to other enlightened human brethren who would care for these freed slaves and bring them back to the state that Mother Gaia had intended them to exist within."

"Mr. O'Brien," the tired voice of Detective Carson interrupted the man's animal rights diatribe. "You were found by Officer Standish inside the kennels. You had broken the locks and smashed half the cages. Surely you must realize we have you for trespassing and destruction of property."

"My canine brothers weren't there. I know that they are imprisoned here, yet they were not in that prison… that icy stalag."

"Seth," Gayle Authier's voice was razor sharp, "we've explained over and over that the dogs are with their partners day and night. There are no dogs in the kennel because this is the last class of the year and there will not be another one until February. The dogs are elsewhere because of the cold weather. We take very good care of our guide dogs."

"No, they are prisoners, they are slaves, like Moses said to Pharaoh 'Let my people go.'"

Jim cut in here. "This sounds very noble, but why save your canine brothers but not your human brothers?"

O'Brien now sounded confused. "I would not hurt any living thing. I am a vegan. I don't even wear any leather or suede. I am a conscientious objector because I refuse to bear arms against my human brothers. Every life, even your pitiful life, must be protected from conception to natural death. All life is sacred."

"Yeah, that's a pretty speech," Carson took control of the interrogation again, "but that does not explain the body outside the back door."

"A body? Outside?" Seth was aghast. "We have to bring it in. Maybe, because of the cold, that person might still be alive?" O'Brien became more and more frantic. "We have to save that person. We have to start first aid and get an ambulance. We have to try!"

Jim quietly turned around and left the office, Gayle Authier right behind him. "Jim, where are you going?"

Jim stopped and turned to the woman, "Gayle; that man might be guilty of a lot of things, but I don't believe he had anything to do with Ashley Rush's death. If he did, he would have slipped up right there, but he didn't know the sex of the victim; didn't know the manner of death and didn't know how long she had been dead for. Seth O'Brien did not kill Ashley Rush."

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

Faithful friends, I am sorry this took so long, but so much beyond my control conspired against me. Hopefully, this will be a one time problem.

**Morristown**

Chapter 6

(Warning: Explicit Language)

Three in the morning and the halls still echoed with the sounds of heavy footsteps playing counterpoint to the storm that buffeted the building. A forensics team had finally arrived to examine the crime scene. The medical examiner came next and declared Ashley Rush officially dead. Exsanguination: caused by rapid blood lose due to the severing of both her jugular vein and her carotid artery was the preliminary finding. The type of weapon to produce this near decapitation was unknown. The jagged wound was so deep the vertebra in her neck was visible to the naked eye; that is to anyone around who could actually see. The next step would be worse. Rush's body would have to be chipped from its icy prison and thawed out before an autopsy could be preformed.

Jim sat in by the door of the dining room, nursing another cup of rapidly cooling coffee. It seemed like years since he'd pulled an all nighter, yet he fell into the rhythm with the ease of long practice. He heard the rattle of the gurney as the body was taken away and the bad jokes of the forensics team as they bitched and moaned about digging through the snow for clues. The scrape of a chair at his table that told him he was no longer alone.

"Detective Dunbar," the voice of Officer Berger was not the one he expected. "You should be in bed."

"Sorry, sweetheart, not 'til the job is done," Jim smirked as he pushed the cold coffee away.

"It's not your job," she shot back and then sighed. "You know, for a condescending son of a bitch, at least you know what you're supposed to do. The state bozos are as useless as tits on a bull."

Jim chuckled and shook his head, "Spoken like a true farmer's daughter. Well, Officer Millie, what is wrong with what the State Law Enforcement Officers are doing?"

"The idiots just arrested Seth O'Brien for the murder of Ashley Rush and their damn forensics team hasn't even started to work the scene." Berger watched closely as the expression on the face of the New Yorker hardened. "I heard what you told Ms. Authier in the hall. I've known Seth since he was the kid who rescued kittens from trees. He doesn't have it in him to swat a bug but he's the local loony and an easy bust."

"So I'm supposed to… what? Pull out my trusty Braille Junior G-Man kit and solve the crime? I'm not even in my jurisdiction and even if I was I am at a slight disadvantage."

The woman blew a raspberry and stood up. "I called a friend of a friend to find out about you, Dunbar, and everyone said you had the biggest brassiest balls in the NYPD. Did they get shot off too?"

Jim clutched his coffee cup and slammed it down, breaking off the handle and spilling the coffee across the table top. "Listen, Berger, crimes don't get solved by waving a magic, fucking wand. I'm good but I need a partner I can depend on and I haven't had one of those for a long time. There are a few things I can't… I can't fucking do anymore and a partner would be a big help."

"Use me."

Jim settled back into his chair, "How often do I have to point out the obvious, I am a suspect and this is not my jurisdiction."

"But it is mine." The woman sat down again. "I don't want to see an innocent loony get railroaded by lazy cops who don't give a damn about Morristown or anything except getting their solve rate up. You can be my consultant and maybe you can prove to the higher ups back in the big, bad apple you still got those brass balls."

"I still got'em Berger, I'll help you… if you do whatever I say and soon you'll hear them clanking together."

"Call me Millie and I'll get you a fresh cuppa coffee."

"You just said the magic words, Millie. Get yourself a pen and paper out too."

---------------------

Jim could hear the exasperated voice of Berger's supervisor even though the phone was against Millie's ear. "What the hell were you doing sending Standish back on the road?"

"Come on Boss, I got seniority over Standish and I'd rather stand guard in a nice warm building than directing traffic in a blizzard." The officer looked at Jim and grinned at his smirk. "Besides, I can't let the Jersey jerks run away with this. They actually think Seth O'Brien killed her."

"You gotta be kidding, he's nuts but he ain't dangerous."

"Yeah, Boss, I know, Boss. Right now I gotta ask you for a copy of the record of every call in or out of this place since…." Officer Berger put her hand over the receiver, turned to Dunbar and whispered, "why, Detective." Jim mouthed the words that she repeated. "I don't trust the troopers, do you? Yeah, I know inter department co operation is the latest craze. Sorry Boss, it's just these State Troopers think the sun shines out their asses. Yes, Boss. Yes, Boss. Fax it to 555-8362 and I'll keep it for our files. Yeah, cause I know O'Brien's family is gonna hit us with a wrongful arrest suit. Let's cover our asses, Boss." Millie sighed as snapped her phone shut.

"Okay, now that I'm knee deep in shit, what next."

"Now," Jim answered, "you get me into Ashley's room."

---------------------

Berger filled a carafe with strong, black coffee, grabbed some mugs and headed to the rec room occupied by Kovacs and Carson. "Fresh coffee," she sang out loud enough to get everyone's attention. "Did I bring enough mugs?"

Jim heard Berger slam the door and then turned round and headed to the dormitory wing. With Hank at his side Jim's steps were sure and swift. He trailed his hand along the wall, checking each door frame and until he found the crime scene tape. This had to be Ashley Rush's room, a room that was basically the same layout as his. The crime scene unit had already been here, and would not be tidy. Jim knew there would be finger print powder on most of the surfaces; every drawer was opened and emptied on the bed. This would be an obstacle course but Jim squared his shoulders, gripped the harness tight and commanded, "Hank, forward." Jim bent under the tape and followed Hank as the dog snaked around the cluttered floor and lead him to the bed. Jim whispered 'good boy' and dropped the harness. Carefully he checked the bed, finding only clothes and an empty suitcase. The dresser was next and the drawers were all open and empty as he expected. Next was the bathroom door, but Jim decided to skip the bathroom because it was so full of smooth, flat surfaces it would probably coated in finger print powder and he didn't want that all over him. Instead he headed to the desk. Skimming his fingers over the top a large, empty area suggested something was removed, probably a laptop computer. A fancy, electric Braille writer under a vinyl cover was pushed back against the wall and a combination CD/tape player sat beside it. Any personal papers or notes would have been taken by the CSU team, but he decided to check the desk drawers anyway. The top and bottom ones were empty, but the middle drawer had a series of small boxes in them. Picking one up he ran his fingers over the outside; there was a Braille label on it. Dunbar was not that good a Braille reader, but he puffed out an exasperated breathe, sat in the desk chair and began.

"Two, three, four and six in one cell makes "the", well that was simple, wasn't it Hank?"

Hank pricked up his ears and moved to Jim's side. Dunbar felt the reassuring weight of the dog against his leg and reached down to scratch behind Hank's ear.

"Thanks for the moral support, kid. Next is B O U R N E, Bourne; I think this is a book on tape." With that Jim opened the box and removed two cassettes. "I bet she bought these cheap because they're cassettes. Ms. Rush was a cheap as she was… oops, sorry Hank, never speak ill of dead bimbos."

It was time consuming, but Jim eventually found The Bourne Identity, The Hunt for Red October, The General's Daughter and Love's Dark Ride in Rush's private tape library.

Jim shook his head, "Hank, Ashley liked testosterone any way she could get it, didn't she? The only thing I can't find is a bottle of Jack Daniel's and cigars, but then maybe CSU took them too. One of these doesn't fit, though, does it? Hank, how would you like to listen to Love's Dark Ride? Maybe we can learn to rip some bodices if we check it out."

---------------------

Quickly getting back to in his room Jim stretched out on his bed. The buzz of his cell phone roused him and Jim scrubbed his hand over his face as he flipped open his phone. "Yeah," Jim yawned.

"Boss," the voice of Millie Berger roused him, "I have been asked by the detectives if I can remain longer… I think it's just to make coffee but I said if the Troopers paid for my hours I'd stay."

"You are a genius," Jim whispered as he rolled his eyes, "see if they'll go for overtime and then get to my room, number four in the dormitory wing. I found some cassettes I think we should listen to ASAP."

He could hear Berger's voice muffled as if her hand was over the receiver. "You pay and I stay… sound good?" The mumble in the background was followed with a quick reply, "they'll cover me Boss. I'll get back to you when I leave here." She snapped the phone shut.

---------------------

"Wake up, Dunbar."

"I'm not sleeping, I'm investigating…" Jim stopped as he sat up. Once he would have quipped he was investigating the inside of his eyelids, but that wasn't true anymore, "my options."

"Well, option this." Berger dropped something in his lap. Quickly running his fingers over it Jim realized it was a tape recorder. "I was supposed to put it back in the squad car but I thought you might want to listen to the initial interrogations Standish and I did."

"Great," Jim's hand skimmed the over the top of the bed to find the audio book retrieved from Ashley's desk. "I want to listen to this first."

"Love's Dark Ride… you desperate or something?"

"Yeah, I'm 'or something'." Jim growled as he opened the box and removed the cassette. "This was left by CSU, I guess it wasn't worthy of their attention, but I think it might be interesting."

Jim could hear Berger snort as he inserted the tape in the player and fiddled with the buttons until it began to play.

"The pickings are slim here, Maggie," the voice of Ashley Rush filled the room. "Men outnumber women two to one, but most of them are old or as bland as white bread and mayonnaise. There are two boys that might be fun to play with and a genuine hero cop that I am sure I can interest in a strip search. So the official fuck-a-thon is on, the one who gets it in the most interesting spot wins."

"What a bitch," Millie whispered as she listened to Ashley Rush list her successes and her failures at rape. Berger called it rape because she sure wasn't going to call it love. After the lurid description of the office encounter she looked at Dunbar's face. It was as the man was carved out of marble; stiff, white and cold. "We have to turn this over to the detectives."

"You have to take it over; I'm still a suspect… even more of a suspect than I was before. They get it only after we've finished with it," was all Dunbar said.

--------------------

Callum Mitchell, barely nineteen but trying to act as he imagined an adult would, sat in the library. Duchess, his golden lab, had her head on his lap because she knew her partner needed her. Jeremy Butler, the only guy his age here, wouldn't stop talking. He went on and on about Ashley. How she had taken him into the kitchen late one night and… how could she… she loved him and she had taken his best friend and…

"Jeremy," Jim Dunbar's voice broke through, "what's happening? I could hear you all the way out in the hallway."

"What do you think? He trying to make me feel better." Callum scrubbed his hand over his face, encountering the tears he'd shed. "Yeah, I guess this isn't very adult. I just never knew anyone who ever got murdered before."

Jim knew it was more than that; he knew Callum was one of the notches on Rush's bedpost.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know something about how murder affects people."

"Nyah, I'll talk to Mr. Coleman in the morning. I just hope I can fall asleep."

Jim stood up and waited for Callum to join him. "I think its time we all went to sleep."

---------------------

Morning dawned cold and still. The blizzard had stopped but a thick layer of ice and snow covered Morristown like a straight jacket. Downed power lines shut down most of the town, but the campus of Seeing Eye had its own set of generators therefore here the lights still shone.

"Jim."

"Sam," Jim and Hank stopped and waited for the councillor to catch up with them, "enough excitement for you?"

"Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery, those troopers have been on my butt since I got here. I've just escaped for breakfast." Coleman checked out the partners and saw Jim in his coat and Hank in the guiding harness. "Are you practicing today?"

Jim grimaced, "just going for a walk, we need the exercise."

"Stick to the paths around the buildings, okay." Coleman huffed out a breath. "What would the police be looking for all this time?"

"Could be anything, they won't know until they find it." A smirk creased Jim's face, "let's hope it's more than left over dog crap."

"I guess I watch too much TV. I want smoking guns or bloody fingerprints."

"And I want it to be Miss Scarlet in the library with a candlestick. Let them do their jobs, Sam and they'll let you do yours."

Jim and Hank went out the front door and started to circle the building. It was U shaped and had at least six exit doors that Jim knew about and that didn't include the kitchen or freight entries. It was time he checked every one.

"Okay, Hank, let's get started. Left left." Together they moved with sure steps, but then it was easy here on the campus. "Find the door, Hank." Jim's knew he could trust his partner to take him to the next door.

Hank quickly got Dunbar to the next door. Jim dropped the harness and, hands extended, went to examine the entryway. The door itself opened out and the knob side of the door frame was clear and open. On the hinge side, however, was a small rack. A stiff broom, a snow shovel and a rake hung over a wooden crate that held a bag of rock salt and another of sand. This same arrangement was at the next three doors Jim and Hank encountered.

"Mr. Dunbar," the voice of the custodian, Jack Hughes, cut through the cold air, "what'cha doing out here?"

Jim stopped and gave the man his full attention and a smile like a kid caught in the cookie jar. "Escaping… trying to find the nearest bar and if not that a coffee shop."

"I don't blame ya; this place feels like we got drunk chaperones at the prom. They know what they gotta do but they don't seem able to do it." Hughes banged and stomped as he talked to Jim. "I got my winter supplies by every door and those bozos took the shovel by the back door. Not only that, I swear every damn doorway has been fooled around with. I gotta system with a place for everything and all and now half the damn shovels are frozen tight cause someone threw them in the yard. Then some jackass leaves a shovel in the middle of a damn snow bank just waiting for one of youse guys to trip over and break your necks. I blame those damn CSU guys. That O'Brien kid didn't use it to bust the lock on the kennel but they still gotta put that dirty fingerprint stuff all over everything. They want his fingerprints offa stuff and anyone who didn't wear gloves last would've left frozen fingers. Damn, my damn fingerprints are gonna be on it more'n that  
kid's."

"Don't sweat it, Jack. Police work is 90 hurry up and wait so those guys are just doing their job."

"I gotta job too."

Jim heard the clunk of a shovel hitting the sidewalk. "Is that one of the shovels you found in the snow bank?"

"Yeah, I gotta get them all cleaned up now."

"No, you take them to the CSU team and tell them Detective Dunbar thinks they're looking at the murder weapon, if they can figure which one it is."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Morristown 07**

Officer Berger watched Dunbar re-enter the building and shuffle tiredly to the dining room. The other students would soon be waking up and the detective hadn't made it to bed. Hell, Jim had not even stopped since he'd discovered the body of Ashley Rush. Quietly Berger poured him another cup of coffee and wondered if Dunbar could muster up a hello or a thank you or even a kiss my ass for the sludge she delivered.

Jim pulled the mug to him and smelled the contents. "Ugh, are you trying to poison me, Officer Millie?"

"Nyah, just trying to see if the stuff was ready for the troopers," Berger grinned.

"Only if they want to retread their car tires," Jim pushed the offending brew away and scrubbed his face with his hands. "How much longer are you going to be here, Millie?"

"The state is only going to pay for me until eight, so that's two more hours. I gotta be back on duty at three this afternoon; sleep would be a nice thing between now and then."

"Wimp; sleep is highly overrated. Do me a favour and get me some paper and pencils; I need to think about the clues."

Berger looked at the unfocused blue eyes of the NYPD detective and the large Seeing Eye dog sleeping at his feet and wondered just what good a pad and pencil would do the man. What the hell, she'd done what he wanted so far, why stop now.

Jim could hear Mrs. Hughes in the kitchen starting breakfast. Soon the other students would be up and asking questions he didn't have the answers for and he needed to be able to think. Jim needed to put all the facts in front of him and examine them. He needed to do this the way he had _always_ done it because he was too damn tired to try anything else

"Here you go," Berger's voice startled him, "one legal pad and five yellow pencils that say Ticonderoga on the side. What more could you ask for?"

"How about a cup of a coffee instead of the battery acid you brought me before?"

"You're lucky, that cook just set out a fresh pot."

Dunbar rolled his eyes heavenward. "Thank you, god."

By the time Berger came back Jim had commandeered the pencils. He tapped one on the table, rolled it between his fingers and then scrawled across the yellow paper in front of him. As she set the fresh coffee down Millie tried to read the page in front of Dunbar. The letters crisscrossed each other, but were surprisingly legible.

"Are those the names of the students?"

"The male students," Jim mumbled as Berger interrupted his train of thought.

"What about the women? Just because she talked about screwing around doesn't limit her to the male students. This woman was power tripping and anyone was fair game as far as I could tell."

"You're right," Jim tipped his head to the right, "and employees have to be included. That would be a real power trip, getting one of the teachers here would make them lose their jobs."

"Speaking of which," Berger said as she turned to the door, "I'd better check in with the state troopers before they come looking for me."

Dunbar just waved his hand in the air as he continued to scrawl across the legal pad. He was off in his own world and Berger could almost see his mind working when Jim snapped the pencil in his hand and reached for another.

"One, the victim was found outside on the… nyah, under the snow. She probably was killed there because nobody in their right mind would've dragged a body out in that weather." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "What'd'ya think, Hank, love or money? Because that's what murder usually comes down to, love or money."

Hank stirred, leaned against his leg and then went back down and to sleep.

"That dog's smarter than you are," Sam Coleman's voice cut through Jim's fatigue. He was behind Dunbar, trying to read the notes on the pad. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"What about you?" Dunbar yawned his answer.

"I made it home last night to my own bed and when I got back here I used the sofa in my office. So I probably got more sleep last night than you did?"

"Since when is sleep an accomplishment?" Jim shot back. "I'm a cop; I live on bad, black coffee and cold Chinese food."

"Sounds revolting," Sam pulled out the chair opposite Jim out and sat down to watch the man work. "We are cancelling classes for the morning, but there will be walks in the afternoon. This is a perfect opportunity to see how you and your dog will work in unusual conditions. Hank can do a lot of things, but he can't help you if you're half asleep."

"And that is why you are going to let me feed this guy and tuck him into bed." Someone spoke up from behind Jim.

"Red," Jim smirked and turned to the sound of Anne Peabody's voice, "tell this guy sleep is for sissies."

"Sam," Anne ignored Dunbar, "how about I make sure Jimmy goes to his room as soon as he eats his Wheaties?"

Jim could hear the steel in Coleman's voice. "_Mrs. Peabody_, only because you promised to tuck Detective Dunbar in will I _allow_ him to even attempt a walk this afternoon… but if Mr. Dunbar so much as yawns before he gets dropped off I am going to personally take him back to his room and tie him to his bed."

"He's serious, Jimmy," Anne said as she squeezed his shoulder, "he's asserting his authority."

Dunbar was exasperated with being treated as if he wasn't there. "Both of you can quit nagging; I'll head back to my room after breakfast. Okay?"

"I'll bring you breakfast later, sweetie," Anne punched him gently in the shoulder. "How else would I get into a good looking man's bed room."

The sound of Anne's laughter followed him into the hallway and Jim barely got into his room when a knock told him he had company.

Jim grinned as he swung open the door, "red hot Mama, what'cha got for me?"

"Jim, Detective Dunbar, it's Caitlyn Vance; can I come in?"

. "Oops, sorry, Cait… I was expecting Anne. Sure… come on in." He stepped back from the door to allow the teen and her dog into his room. "Should I leave the door open?"

"No, I think I want to talk privately and these rooms aren't very private… at least the bedroom part." Jim heard the bathroom door open. "In here, no one can hear us in here if we turn on the water."

"How do you know that?" Jim asked as he followed the girl inside.

"Jeremy and I would listen at would listen at the doors sometimes, you know the offices and bedrooms. It was so boring here sometimes and it was kinda funny, some of the things we heard."

"But then you heard something that wasn't funny."

"Anita Shaw, she was crying to one of the councillors. She said Ashley Rush seduced her and she couldn't face her husband after being with a woman. Ashley was friendly with me, real friendly; if you know what I mean, but I told her to beat it or I'd report her. I said I knew she had bothered Anita and Jeremy would beat her up if she ever tried to talk to me again." The girl started to cry. "I told Jeremy, what if he killed Ashley?"

"You know they arrested Seth O'Brien. If you thought Jeremy was involved you should have said something when you spoke to the state troopers."

"I couldn't, I don't think Jeremy could hurt anyone but those troopers would have arrested him. Maybe he would have lost Dawn and he needs that dog to go to university… his parents won't let him go unless he has a guide dog." Caitlyn reached out and snatched Jim's arm. "Please, you're a homicide officer, you talk to Jeremy. If he did you can turn him in."

"Okay, I'll talk to Jeremy. Now you go get some breakfast and I'll let know what happens."

He waited silently while the girl left. Jim craved sleep so badly his bed seemed magnetic, but he knew he had to talk to Jeremy Butler and Anita Shaw. He agreed with Millie Berger: Seth O'Brien was a convenient suspect but Jim Dunbar was now sure the murderer of Ashley Rush was still here at the Seeing Eye campus. He wasn't going to get to bed just yet.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you everyone who sent a review. This is what I have been missing for so long, guess I had to write the stories to get reviews. And again, thanks to my beta reader.

**Chapter Eight**

Caitlyn and Jeremy were huddled together when they heard the distinctive tread of Jim Dunbar entering the room. Jeremy hugged Caitlyn tighter.

"Jim, I'm by the piano with Cait."

"Jeremy," Dunbar stopped and turned toward the couple, "I think we'd better talk alone." He waited, hearing the whispers, the jangle of leashes, the tentative kiss before Caitlyn left the room. "Okay, kid, what'da'ya want to tell me?"

"Yeah, I guess, it… it… it's kinda embarrassing, you know, admitting me and my girlfriend were sneaking around listening at doorways."

"Your girlfriend?" Jim chuckled as he settled into one of the sofas and patted it so Jeremy would join him. "I thought you'd met here for the first time."

"Yeah, but we found out we're going to both be going to Yale. Callum is going go to SUNY and we were kinda making fun of him." Jeremy sounded embarrassed as he sat down. "You know, State University of New York wasn't as ah, well, prestigious as Yale."

"And you were rubbing it in."

"No, it was friendly and he gave as good as he got but then he got really smug a few days ago. So we decided to do some surveillance; a stake out and _you _were the inspiration Mr. Police Detective."

Jim rolled his eyes, "just what I've always wanted, to inspire eavesdropping."

"Sorry; anyway we heard Ashley Rush inside and she was laughing at Callum. I guess he couldn't, ah, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jim's voice got hard. "And you didn't tell the police last night."

"'Cause I don't believe Callum killed her. Besides, wouldn't his clothes be covered with blood? The police didn't find blood on anybody's clothes and her neck was sliced. Blood would've sprayed like crazy, right?"

Jim's voice remained hard, "Yeah, right. There would have been blood everywhere. This does not make the fact you didn't tell the police right. It is not your place to decide who is guilty or innocent. The police might have cleared him of suspicion but now we may never know."

"But they arrested that weirdo!"

"That doesn't mean they'll be able to keep him. I don't think they have enough evidence to keep Seth O'Brien."

"Yeah, but," Jeremy stuttered and shook, "it couldn't be Callum. If it wasn't the animal rights weirdo it had to be Anita Shaw. She was really throwing a spaz about Ashley. You should have heard her, crying and bitching about being tempted into sin by an unnatural creature."

Jim nodded, "and who did she say this to?"

"Reverend Washington," Jeremy fidgeted with Dandy's leash. "He told her to speak to one of the councillors. After that I didn't hear anything because I got the hell outta there."

"Well, that ends that. I can't approach the Reverend."

"Why not? She told him everything!"

Dunbar sighed, "if she confessed to a minister its private; the seal of the confessional covers all clergy."

"Can't you, like, force it outta them?"

Jim rose, exasperated, "I shouldn't even be doing this. I'm a suspect the same as everyone else here."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Maybe because I don't want to see someone innocent go to jail." Dunbar cringed. He was glad the kid couldn't his face because Jim really couldn't tell anyone why he was doing this since hadn't figured it out himself.

* * *

Jim headed toward his room, hoping beyond hope no one would stop him on the way to bed.

"Jim," came Sam Coleman's voice.

"Almost made it, Hank."

"What was that, Jim?" Sam laid his hand on Dunbar 's shoulder. "Have you decided to go out this afternoon?"

"I don't know if I want to take Hank out on all that ice."

"I talked to Gayle Authier and we decided that going to the mall would be an excellent trip today. No ice but lots of crowds to manoeuvre through. So far everyone asked is coming but I expect there will be a few who won't. Can I count on you to join in?"

Flipping the crystal on his watch, Jim read 9:45. "If we're leaving after one this afternoon, I'll be there."

"We'll be leaving one o'clock on the dot, is that good enough for you, your majesty?"

The sarcasm was not lost on Jim. He shrugged, "I'll be there;" I need to get my wife a Christmas present anyway."

"I'll see you then," the man turned, "I have five more people to talk to before lunch,"

"Yeah, go on, I'm outta here."

* * *

The state troopers burst into the head administrator's office. "Ms. Authier, I'm sorry, but we have to talk to your students again." 

Gayle Authier folded her arms over her ample chest. "Trooper Carson , you were here for hours last night annoying our students and upsetting the whole equilibrium of the school. You arrested someone. Go question that person."

"We have questioned Mr. O'Brien and released him." Trooper Carson pulled out his cell phone. "I'm sure if I talk to Judge Michaels I can have this whole place shutdown for a complete search warrant. Now, wouldn't it be easier if you just let us talk to your students and narrow our search down."

Authier shook her head. "Please try not to disrupt my students too much."

* * *

Jim sat on the floor of his room, gently running his fingers through the soft hair on Hank's head. He was overtired. Every time his head hit the pillow his mind raced with thoughts of Ashley Rush. 

He cupped the dog's head gently in his hands. "Am I getting too old for this?" Jim chuckled. "Can you tell me what I want to know, kid? I'm feeling old right now or maybe I'm just so damn tired."

There was a sharp rap on the door. "Dunbar, its Trooper Carson. I wanna speak to you."

Jim rolled his head until his neck cracked, rose and opened the door. "Come in, I got nothing to hide."

"Have you got something to share," Carson asked as he and Kovacs entered the room.

"Yeah, I just might." Jim smirked, "as long as I don't need a lawyer."

* * *

Boots shuffled and harnesses creaked as nine students waited for transportation to Fairview Mall for a day of shopping. Sam Coleman and Gayle Authier watched with pride as their students walked with their heads high and their grips firm but relaxed on the stiff leather handles of the harnesses. This was going to be a different kind of lesson today. 

Gayle Authier spoke first. "I'm glad to see the turn out is very good after such a difficult night, but we have to learn to absorb the knocks life gives is and move on. Today each one of you will be paired with a teacher, councillor or therapist from the school and we all will go to the Fairview Mall. Previously to this, we have given you very specific directions on where you are going and what you are to do. Real life isn't that easy and we will be putting you into a new situation."

Sam Coleman stepped in. "Today you are going to have to ask complete strangers where the shops you want to go to are and how to get there. I want you to think about the people you will be asking. Use your heads and when asking for directions remember if you are given something vague like 'right over there', or 'straight ahead of you' ask the person to be more explicit. Morristown and its inhabitants are used to dealing with visually impaired persons, but that is not always going to be the case. That is why your companion will be keeping track of you and be able to tell you your strengths or weaknesses today. We won't let anything bad happen to you, but everyone here wants to see how you work with your partner and how you yourself manage."

The sound of rushed footsteps came to the crowd at the front door. Coleman and Authier looked pleased as Jim Dunbar and Hank joined the group.

"Jim," Sam grinned as the detective joined the group, "I'm glad you could make it. Should we wait for Anita?"

"No," Jim scrubbed his hand over his face. "She's busy talking to Carson and Kovacs. This is all you're getting today."

"Good," Gayle clapped her hands together, "Time for everyone to get into the vans and we can head out."

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to my beta reader, again. On with the story

**Chapter Nine**

Milt Gibbs was leaning against a cement pillar when Sam Coleman found him.

"So, how is Mr. Dunbar doing?" Sam asked as approached the teacher.

"Oh, it was quite the show," Milt grinned. "First he waited with Hank as some girls oohed and aahed about the dog. Then he tilts his head and smiles and tells them all about Hank. I swear those girls positively swooned and then when he said he wanted to go to Victoria's Secret-- they were falling all over themselves offering to guide him there. He gives them a smile and says he just wants directions. You could see the girls deflate when he said it was for his wife but he got good directions and took off. He got Hank into an elevator and went into the shop and soon Jim has the sales girls letting him finger the lace and feel the silk against his cheek."

"Why are you here now?" Sam looked at the jewellery store where he could see Jim smoozing with the man behind the counter.

"I believe this is for a pair of garnet earrings. Jim thought they would go well with his wife's dark hair and brown eyes." Milt yawned. "Driving today was the pits. Gayle says we're supposed to be here until at least four o'clock, but I'm betting there are more than a few people who are done shopping now."

"Go check in with Gayle, I'll finish with Mr. Dunbar and if he's finished I'll see if he can get to the cab stand and get himself home." Coleman looked closely at Milt Gibbs face. "You look like five miles of bad road, Milt. Let's see if we can get things wrapped up early today. If the kids can have a snow day, so can we."

"First, coffee and then Gayle," Milt headed toward the food court. "I don't think I can face Dragon Lady without some caffeine fortification."

Sam watched as Jim pulled carefully folded money from his wallet and paid for the gift. He slipped the small box in the larger Victoria's Secret bag and spoke to the clerk again. It was obvious by the hand movements that directions were being given and Coleman shook his head. The sighted might be able to give directions without their arms wind milling around, but it didn't happen often. Sam waited until Dunbar exited the store and turned right when he approached.

"Jim, have you got all your Christmas shopping done?"

Dunbar turned toward the voice, "Sam! Yeah, all that I do without my wife. We'll get it finished together or, if I'm real lucky, Christie will get it done by the time I get home."

"Well, I was speaking to your observer and he said you seemed able to handle yourself very well." Sam came beside Dunbar and touched his arm so Jim could orient on him. "I need a cup of coffee, you up for another one?"

"Sure, I was just heading to the meeting spot in the food court." Jim's hand reached down to scratch Hank behind the ear. "This boy needs a drink of water and a chance to rest."

"There's a deli here that has better coffee than any place in the food court. My treat."

"Sure, if you're buying I'll head to a deli but not another cuppa coffee." Jim yawned, "Soda will do me fine."

Sam tapped the back of Dunbar's hand, "Let me give Hank a rest."

"Lead the way," Jim said as he dropped the stiff harness grip and picked up the leash.

"Just how long did you sleep, Jim?" Sam asked as he stirred his coffee.

Jim leaned his head back onto the red vinyl of the restaurant chair. "Sleep, isn't that some kind of hobby other people have?"

"No, sleep is something you need every night. I told you to get some sleep today. What kept you awake today?"

Jim sipped his soda before he spoke. "The troopers came by today. They released Seth O'Brien for lack of evidence and I guess they spoke to Officer Berger. So they actually asked my opinion on what's been going down."

Coleman put his cup down and studied Dunbar closely. "So, do you have an opinion on who murdered Ashley Rush?"

"It was a crime of opportunity. The killer was not planning to kill, but suddenly everything came together, the victim, the tool and the rage needed to do the job." Jim yawned again and scrubbed his face with his hands. "If Ashley had been able to be something other than the ball buster she was, she'd be alive today."

"I know she slept around," Sam took another sip of his coffee, "but Ashley got her first partner here. I was hoping she could put the brakes on her libido for a month."

"You knew? You knew she was… God, I don't feel very good."

"I'll take you back, Jim. Finish your soda and we'll head out." Sam pulled his wallet out. "Come on, Jim, finish up and I'll take care of everything."

* * *

"It's time to get out of the car, Jim."

"What," Jim roused himself and felt for the door handle. "I must'a fell asleep in the car."

"I'll get your bags, they're in the trunk. You get Hank." Sam watched as Dunbar stumbled out of the front passenger seat, groped for the rear door handle and stumbled as the door swung open.

"Comme along, liddle doggie, le's get inside," Jim sleep garbled voice was almost unintelligible, "S'nap time."

"Yeah, Jim, just sit over here on the bench and wait for me, I'll park the car and be right back." Sam tapped the back of the park bench and waited for Jim to stagger over and settle on the snowy bench. Soon Dunbar's eyes slid shut.

Sam looked at the pair, reached down and scratched Hank behind the ears. "Sorry boy, but if you weren't here with your partner it would look wrong. Too bad no one can come out here and find you like they did Teddy." With that he reached out, pulled open Jim's coat at the throat then got in his car and drove away.

* * *

_Hank was cold. He had to stay with his partner but he was so very, very cold. His partner had to be cold too, but he was so still. Partner's hand was not on the handle of Hank's harness; both the hands were laying limp on his lap. Hank rose and nudged the cold fingers with his nose. Those fingers reached for the dog's nose and petted absently before they fell back down._

_This was bad._

_Hank took the sleeve of his partner's coat and pulled. He pulled and pulled until his partner leaned back to free his arm. Hank grabbed again, this time the other arm, right around the wrist. He shook and growled and finally his partner roused enough to put both __hands around__ his neck and rubbed the fur there._

"Hey, Hank," Jim whispered, "what'da'ya wan. Ss cold here, I wunner where Sam went."

_Hank shook his head and kept worrying his partner, trying to get him to get up and move. Finally he gave in and began to bark. _

"Woah, you are makin lottsa noise." Jim pulled his coat closed and shook, suddenly feeling nauseous. "Sam's takin' a long time. Maybe we should try ta find'm? Maybe we should?" Yet Jim dropped his hands back in his lap and zoned out again.

_This was very, very bad_.

* * *

Millie Berger stopped at the Seeing Eye campus before heading to police station hoping to talk to Jim Dunbar. Most of the students were gone on an exercise, but Anita Shaw had just finished speaking to Troopers Carson and Kovacs.

"Hello, Berger, what are you doing here?" Carson said as he snapped his notebook shut.

"I just wanted to let Mr. Dunbar know that Seth O'Brien had been released early this morning." A smile, a very smug smile slipped across Berger's face.

"Yeah, you told us we didn't have enough to hold him. Actually, the local animal rescue society lost power and he was there helping out." He absentmindedly scratched his head. "Luckily we came back today and one of the students wanted to speak to us. Now, we are headed to the Fairview Mall."

Berger shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, "I still have to start my shift, for I am a lowly townie and not a state cop."

"That could always change, if you wanted it to."

Millie's brows shot up, "are you going to give me reference?"

"I might, you make a good cuppa coffee," Kovacs sniped.

Pulling her hat down on her head, Berger looked Kovacs in the eye. "Shove it, jerk wad," she grimaced and turned away from the laughing men.

* * *

Authier counted heads, "that's nine students. Where's Mr. Dunbar?"

"He went back to the campus by cab," Coleman said, "he was exhausted and asked permission. Since he is a New Yorker and will probably be using cabs quite a bit, I let him."

Milt Gibbs chewed the inside of his cheek. This was not what Sam had suggested earlier. Even though Milt trusted Sam, Dunbar was his responsibility. He would talk to Ms. Authier as soon as they arrived back to the campus.

tbc


	10. Chapter 10

Here it is, finally complete, there was a time when I thought I would never finish this story. I want to thank everyone who reviewed Morristown, it helped me start working on the story after an annoying illness sidetracked me this year. Also, to my beta reader... Sweetie, I want to thank you so much for your help and friendship these past few months

**Morristown**

Chapter 10

"What do you mean, Dunbar didn't come back?" Gayle Authier's icy voice made Jack Hughes cringe. "He went to the mall with you, but he didn't come back." Hughes felt the walls of his safe little world closing in on him.

"This whole session has been a disaster." Authier clenched her hands tightly as she paced in front of the staff.

"Who was the last to see him at the mall?"

"I was, Gayle," Sam spoke up. "I told him where the cab stand was, followed him and left once he was safely in a taxi."

"So you can't remember which cab company picked him up?"

"Dunbar is a grown man, a police detective; we have to be able to trust he can get in a taxicab." Sam put his hand on Gayle's shoulder, "Jim was a bit sleep deprived, but I'm sure he could manage to choke out 'Take me to the Seeing Eye' even if he were half dead."

Milt Gibbs spoke up next. "We have to contact the police. The man was extremely sleep deprived and if he got involved with an unscrupulous driver he could be anywhere."

Authier dropped into her desk chair and picked up the phone, "I'll call the police. Sam, organize a search party. He may be close, but disoriented. Why that man decided to take a taxi is beyond me."

"Ms. Authier, the State Troopers are here. They're talking to Anita Shaw. I'll get them right now." Hughes was out of the room before the woman could tell him to wait.

"Well, the rest of you, get moving, before the roof falls in on all of us." Authier's eyes fell on her trusted second in command. "Sam, take care of it."

The staff trooped out after Coleman; at least that is how it seemed. Milt Gibbs hung back and was the last to the door. He wanted to tell Authier that Sam was playing down just how disoriented Jim Dunbar was, but Coleman had worked at the Seeing Eye years longer than he had. Coleman had to know more about teaching the blind than Milt; so, ultimately, he just did what Sam told him to.

* * *

_Up. He finally got up, but he slid right back on the bench. _

_Noise? _

_There was a noise behind him. Another one was walking through the trees._

Hank started barking again. He jumped and howled and pushed to the end of his leash, but no further. Hank knew he had to stay with his partner. Then the other man looked his way, dropped what he was carrying and ran toward him and his partner.

_This was good._

Dunbar felt hands on his shoulders. "Mister, what are you doing out here?"

"'m tired," he managed to mutter.

"Wake up or at least get up." The solitary man looked at the barely coherent Jim Dunbar and shook his head. "Oh god, I can't leave any living thing out here in this cold. Come on."

"Hank, caa-nn-t leaf Hannk."

"Hey, I said I can't leave any living thing in this cold," the man muttered as he tried to help Jim. "I'll call the Seeing Eye."

"No," Jim grabbed at his saviour, "some…one… from there… lef' me. Call the local cops… aashk for Officer Millie." With that Dunbar blacked out.

* * *

_My head hurts, god almighty my head hurts_. Jim pressed his hands hard against his temples. He burrowed deep into the mattress and huddled under the soft blankets. Then someone grasped his hand; Jim clung tight to the comfort this stranger was giving him.

"Don't move, you're safe here," the young man's voice was reassuring. "You're in the emergency room at Morristown Memorial Hospital."

"Hank," Jim called. Immediately the guide dog was there, sniffing and nudging to make sure Dunbar was all right. Jim leaned over on his side and buried his hands into the thick fur of his partner. "Hank, you are such a good boy."

"He saved your life. I was out there refilling bird feeders when I heard Hank barking. You were just about passed out on a park bench. Now you're safe here, warmed up and awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a Mack truck," he levered himself up on one elbow and extended his other hand.

"Hello, my name is Jim Dunbar."

His rescuer grabbed his hand, "Seth O'Brien."

Jim's eyebrows shot up. "You're not as loud as I remember."

"He isn't, is he?" the voice of Millie Berger surprised Jim, "I always had him pegged as a shouter and not a doer."

"It's not like your friend can read a protest sign," the soft spoken young man answered. "What I don't understand is what were you doing in the middle of the park?"

Jim finally relaxed, "Being murdered; evidently."

"Well," Millie leaned back on her heels, "whoever tried to kill you, failed; now we had better get the troopers back and get this taken care of."

* * *

"Gayle," Sam Coleman approached Authier in the foyer of the main building, "I have volunteers already searching around the campus and the police have cars covering the streets between here and the mall."

"Oh God, Sam, I've had students leave early, I've even had a student kidnapped by a parent, but I have never had a student die. Now I have one murdered and for all I know another one frozen to death on the side of the road." Authier turned and stared out onto the frozen landscape beyond the door. "It's been hours that Dunbar has been missing. Damn, I hate the cold."

Sam put his hand on Gayle's shoulder. "Less time has passed than you think, Jim was bundled up and Hank will keep him moving. Don't give up on him."

"Sam, you always make me feel better."

* * *

Sam finally managed to get away from the search party and go to the park where he had dropped off Jim. Dunbar wasn't where he'd been left. Coleman parked his car and went behind the storage sheds of the parks and recreational depot, scanning the rows of benches stored there for the winter. His head tilted back to watch the snow that was falling from the sky. "This is even better; nobody will find him before morning."

"I heard that," Seth O'Brien stepped out from between the buildings. "Even better that nobody finds who?"

"Oh, it's you." A smirk creased Coleman's face. "How did it feel to be arrested for murder?"

"You'll have to tell me, I was only brought in for questioning." Seth pointed to the side of the building. "You aren't blind, so I know you can read a sign that says Authorized Personnel Only. I'm a maintenance employee so I guess that makes you a trespasser."

"One of our students is missing and I'm part of the search party." Coleman slowly approached the young man.

"Be careful, Seth, Sam's gone from impulsive to calculating." Jim and Hank stepped forward, followed by Officer Berger and Troopers Kovacs and Carson. "Ashley was a crime of opportunity… and I'm betting a crime of passion too. Were you a notch on her bedpost, Sam, or were you someone she said no to?"

Sam deflated. His whole life was built around helping people and suddenly he was trying to kill… had killed someone.

"All she did was laugh at me," Coleman dropped to the frozen ground. "How could I kill her for laughing at me?"

"Hank, forward," Jim approached and then crouched down. "Sam, it's alright now. It's over… we can help you now."

* * *

Millie Berger stood with Jim Dunbar in the observation room and watched while Sam Coleman wrote out his confession.

"Thanks for the call; this is my first big collar." She shifted from foot to foot as she watched Dunbar sit and scratch the dog's head. "I just got one question: why'd he do it?"

"There are only two reasons to commit murder." Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ease out the tension.

"Yeah, I know; either love or money," she said without pausing, "so which one is it?"

"Love, I think, but not the love you'd imagine. I think Sam Coleman loved his job so much that when Ashley Rush started seducing people there he wanted to protect the Seeing Eye school." Jim leaned back in the straight backed chair. "I listened to those tapes twice before I turned them in and later… later, anyone who couldn't bring himself to talk to a cop talked to me."

"Jim," Millie straightened up, "he's finished writing and is looking up at the mirror. He's motioning us in."

"Obviously he watches TV and knows someone is always back here. Go see what he wants." Jim listened as Berger left the room. Was this the swan song of his police career? "Hank, is this the end?"

The observation room door opened. "Jim, Coleman wants to talk to you."

"Officer Berger, don't play with me."

"No, he really does. Come on, before some over eager detective takes him to booking."

Dunbar stood, "Yeah, here I come; Hank, door."

"Hello, Jim," there was a rattle of handcuffs as if Coleman waved or extended his hand. "The first time I met you I said I was impressed; that hasn't changed."

"I wish I could say the same thing." Dunbar reached the table. "Ashley Rush was no saint, but she didn't deserve to die that way."

"I wouldn't have done anything if she hadn't laughed at me. She ridiculed me and everything about the Seeing Eye. We had helped her so much and…"

"I don't care what excuses you make about Ashley Rush, anything you might have said was negated when you tried to kill _me_. The next time I see you I'll be testifying at your trial." Jim turned around to leave.

"Promise me one thing; promise me you won't let them stop you from being a police officer. You fight for it because if you do no one will be able to stop you." Coleman watched as Dunbar walked out of the interrogation room. "You are a cop, Jim. Never let the bastards get you down."

* * *

The four week training session was over and the students were packing and getting ready to go home with their new canine partners.

"Hey, Jim," the voice of Anne Peabody interrupted Dunbar as he was checking the dresser to make sure he had everything. "I found your friend wandering the halls looking for you."

"Hey, Detective," a familiar voice came from the hall.

Jim turned to the door. "Hey, Officer Millie, so you came to see me off."

"As far as I can tell, you were always a little off," laughed Berger.

Dunbar turned from his task, "Well, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's what I can do for you. I have news about Sam Coleman; he pled to the lesser charge of involuntary homicide. There's not going to be a trial so you won't have to haul ass back to New Jersey any time soon."

"Halleluiah," Anne laughed, "maybe I should leave you two alone now?"

"No way, Red, I need a chaperone with this aggressive woman here." Dunbar kidded Berger.

"Actually, you might want to sit down." Millie unfolded the printout she had been clutching tight in her hand. "I've got something to read to you… if you want to hear it?"

"Goody, a bed time story. Red, you'd better hold my hand in case this is scary." Jim tried to keep the mood light but the solemn way Millie Berger was acting put his teeth on edge. He settled on the bed and pulled Anne Peabody down beside him while Hank settled by his feet.

"This is a copy of the confession of Samuel G. Coleman. It is not pleasant after dinner reading, but I thought you might want to hear it." Millie watched Dunbar's shoulders tighten while his classmate took his hand.

"Here we go… my name is Sam Coleman and I have worked for the Seeing Eye for seventeen years. When I first met Ashley Rush she had been blind for barely a year. She was a divorce lawyer who had had acid thrown in her face by the husband of one of her clients. Ashley's own marriage was breaking up and she was very lonely and very afraid. I recommended she come to the school because she seemed to be a smart, funny and strong woman and I felt that a Seeing Eye dog would be the best thing for her to rebuild her life. The session was almost over when we first made love. I don't know if it was Ashley or myself who started flirting but in the end I take all the responsibility for the affair. My own marriage was in trouble and I let myself believe that being with Ashley was a good thing. In the end, however, I tried once more to patch things up with my wife. Ashley took this as abandonment and she changed for the worse. By the time she came back to the Seeing Eye for her next dog she had become a hard woman who punished men using sex as a lure. Then she would drop them the way she felt she had been dropped. I looked the other way because I felt any grown man who fell for this deserved what he got. It was when I found out she was going after our most vulnerable students, teenagers and a despondent woman, that I knew I had to act. There was an ice storm coming and Ashley had taken her dog, Teddy, out to relieve himself. I confronted her and tried to be calm and persuade her to stop these actions but Ashley only laughed at me and said she would 'do me real good' if I left her alone to her fun. I tried to reason with her, but she only laughed harder. I gave up and headed back to the building when she called me a mental eunuch who couldn't satisfy a woman now or ever. I snapped. There was a metal snow shovel by the exit door. I grabbed it, attacked Ashley and once she hit the ground I slammed the shovel into her neck. Teddy, her dog, rushed me but I hit him with the shovel, I thought he was dead but I now know I only knocked him out. I tried to clean the shovel off in the snow and then switched it with one by another door. Then I headed home, but never got there. I pretended to return out of concern for the school but I really wanted to see if anyone figured out if I had killed Ashley Rush. It was James Dunbar, that homicide detective from New York City who got too close to the truth for comfort and I thought I had to kill him too to protect myself. This is something I never would have believed of myself. I am not a murderer but I had killed in the heat of passion and now I planned to kill this man. Ashley was just a moment of anger but Dunbar was carefully planned. I am glad I failed to kill Dunbar. I freely admit I killed Ashley Rush. I will plead guilty and then let justice run its course on me. Signed Samuel George Coleman."

Berger folded the paper and looked at the two people sitting before her. Jim Dunbar looked like he was carved in granite but Anne Peabody was gently stroking the man's hand and slowly shaking her head. "I just wanted to let you know what was going down. You are a great boss, Jim, and if you ever need me feel free to call me. I'll make the hike to the big bad city for you any time you call."

Jim stood up and extended his hand. "You'll always be welcome in my home. Officer Millie, you are one good cop."

She shook his hand. "Thanks, Boss. I gotta go now, my shift starts at three. Bye for now." Millie took one more look at Dunbar; tall, blond and handsome; it was too bad he was married. Then she turned and went out the door.

"Hey Jimmy boy," Anne Peabody stood up and took her dog's leash, "I have to finish my packing. My flight leaves Newark at 4:30."

"Red, knowing you're there makes me want to go to Michigan." Jim reached out, found Red and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'll miss you."

"Don't worry," Anne laughed, "I've got family in Queens and I think it's time I visited them. My husband is retired and we can go back to where we first met and spend time remembering what it was like to be young and foolish in the east Fifties during the fifties."

"You'd better call me when you come."

"Of course, us jazz babies gotta stick together." Then the jangle of a leash and the closing of a door told Jim that one red hot mama had left the room.

After that, the day kicked into fast forward. The Seeing Eye didn't have graduation ceremonies because everyone was to return seamlessly to their lives. Goodbyes were quick but heartfelt, phone numbers and e-mail addresses were exchanged and even if some people never called there were always some who would.

It was seven o'clock when Jim Dunbar slipped his key into the front door lock. Automatically he took his white cane from his coat pocket and put it on the table by the door. He hung up his coat and, for the first time, unfastened Hank's harness and hung it next to his coat. Jim heard the soft steps of his wife come towards him so he turned to them.

"Christie, I'm home. Come meet Hank; he's home too."

fin


End file.
